Subservience
by Ides of March
Summary: Harry Potter was sentenced to life in Azkaban. Years later, he has made a life for himself as an Auror. However, he is forced back to Hogwarts where he has to confront the past he tried to suppress for so long and of course, the prophecy. *POST-OOTP*
1. Default Chapter

Chapter One: Permafrost

I shivered and pulled my robes closer to my body, hoping to salvage some bit of warmth. Futile. I breathed on my hands, but found the tiny heat of my breath dissipated before it could reach my hands. I tried again, putting my hands closer to my mouth. Again, it didn't work. 

The cold was all-consuming. It chilled through everything until it rested in my very heart. And it was always there, the frost creeping deeper into my soul until I was so weighted with it, I was numb with it. 

And it was so silent too...It rested like a muffling blanket over the prison so that each tiny scuttle of noise rasped sharply against my ears. 

A scream punctuated the silence – my scream. It echoed briefly in the cavernous halls, before subtly disappearing. The silence reigned again. I hated the quiet, but what came next was worse. The voices had returned. They were faint at first – words were barely distinguishable. But they grew louder; they always did. They became shrill and accusing. I squeezed my eyes shut. Tears escaped. I screamed again to try to overwhelm the voices. But the voices conquered in the end. 

_How could you?! Screams...This can't be true..._

The voices had reached their apex. They were so loud...so dizzying now...I shuddered and hoped for the darkness to come faster. The voices were so loud now that I could not feel anything else. 

And finally, they were quieting, as my body and my mind slumped, finally defeated by the pummelling voices. The darkness was coming.

A cold shock hit my face and even the refuge of the unconscious was denied. "Potter." I felt the man get closer until I could feel his breath on my face. I groaned softly. It was Epp, the Azkaban guard who had assigned himself to tormenting me. "Do you know how pathetic you look?" I cranked open my eyelids and forced myself to look at Epp's bitter face. "My, my, see how far we've fallen...." he said. " The-Boy-Who-Lived is snivelling in an Azkaban cell." I crawled to my knees and stood up, leaning on the bars heavily for support. "No one is going to help _you _now. And you're crazy too! You're absolutely mad. Look at the wee ghosties!" he mocked pointing at a random space in front of him. 

The voices were coming back and I slumped back down. 

"You always thought you were better than everyone else, didn't you?" asked Epp.

_This can't be true! Harry...You couldn't have...Dumbledore! I won't believe it..._

"Look where that got you, eh, Potter?"

_Gasps...Did you really? Yes. How could you...?_

"Scum like you will always get what they deserve."

_I can't believe you! ...Why?! He never...I _hate _you...He was...I hate you...Why did you betray us? ...It's your fault._

"You killed him."

I covered my eyes and started crying. I couldn't take it. "Please," I croaked out weakly. "Stop." Have mercy."

"Why should I – how many have you killed, Potter? Did you give _them _mercy?"

"I'm innocent," I whispered.

I hate you Harry...I don't see how you could have done this to him, but, you have, Harry. You did it, and it was all your fault....I have to hate you. 

"I'm _innocent_," taunted Epp. 

"I can't take this anymore..." I said.

"Did you ever think you could just back out of it?" asked Epp. "You're going to be in Azkaban for the rest of your life."

I hate you.

Each of the voices snapped at my heart painfully – past and present.

Epp finally left. I let out a sigh of relief. Maybe, I shouldn't have. 

I could now hear the gentle rustling of the dementors' robes as they approached. The voices were louder now. The dementors were closer. Louder. The dementors were right outside my cell. Unbearably loud. 

I fell…

_"Ron, you know for Potions, Snape said that the Confundus Concoction had a blue sheen to it? Ron? Hello?"_

_"Oh," said Ron, blinking. "Yeah, something about Sue and yeah…"_

_"Oh Ron, wake up!" said Hermione, smacking him lightly._

_"Whatchoo do that for?" _

_Hermione rolled her eyes. 'I find it very odd that the Confundus Concoction has a blue sheen as there isn't actually anything in the potion that is remotely blue…Unless…maybe it's a chemical reaction between the Bolivian caterpillars and the aster roots! But then…Ron, pay attention! The NEWTs are in exactly 17 days and 8 hours!!! I can't go take the test when I don't know what causes the blue in the concoction!!! Oh…I just remembered; what about the monarch butterfly wings…that would counteract the aster roots…Ron!!!"_

_"Yeah, monster butterflies and the Easter rats…"_

_"Ron, you're not listening!"_

_I came in with a soft, "Hi." _

_Hermione immediately shut up. "Hi, Harry." _

_A pregnant silence filled up the Gryffindor common room. And all the other students who had been doing their homework, playing chess, or in some cases, wreaking havoc turned to watch the unfurling drama. _

_Ron suddenly decided to wake up. "Why'd you stop talking, Herm?" He then saw me. "Oh…hi, Harry."_

_I obviously wasn't wanted. I went up to my prefect room and left the fledgling couple behind. As soon as I was gone, the chattering resumed. I lay down on my bed and started reading the book I had started yesterday: _Advanced Curses: A Guide to Mastering the Most Difficult of the Difficult. _It seemed like reading was the only thing I ever did anymore. _

_At the beginning of sixth year, everyone started hero-worshipping me. Well…everyone except Ron and Hermione and a couple of members of DA.  I was afraid I let my temper get the best of me and I hexed a couple of my 'fans'. I think they go the idea after that. _

_And Ron and Hermione...Well, they found themselves snogging one Valentines Day. They didn't want it to be 'weird' or anything so they continued snogging in secret. Of course, I _did_ find them one day in a broom closet. Finally, _they _began avoiding me so they could have more time alone. Our legendary friendship fell apart at the seams. None of us admitted it. We all pretended it was alright... _

_Things were getting worse in the outside world. Voldemort's presence was becoming more and more defined. Every day people would die in an insolvable pattern. The Order, who still kept secrets from me, was slowly falling apart. Ever since one of the new recruits was discovered to be passing on information to Voldemort, they had been subdued. He knew the full prophecy now, and it was only a matter of time before we had to face again. _

_Driven by this combination of loneliness, responsibility, inevitability, and I admitted, fear, I dove into my studies. No matter how much I wanted to deny it, in the end it would come to me to destroy Voldemort – or to die. I had dropped all my electives and was only taking the core subjects so I had more time to practice. I completed my essays haphazardly but performed the practical aspects brilliantly. I continued taking Occlumency with Snape and began duelling lessons with Dumbledore. At one point I knew more spells than Hermione. _

_People were scared of me after I successfully sent the Defense Against the Dark Arts professor to the Hospital Wing during a duelling demonstration. They avoided me like the plague. Only Ron and Hermione kept a tentative friendship with me. _

_I hated it. _

I gasped, finally awaking from my trance. I breathed, listening as my breath slowly evened out into a steady sigh. It was amazing how much worse things were now...

The Dementors came again…

_The world appeared blurred and multiplied...I was hanging upside down....I was a fly...I was viewing the world in many red-tinged facets. I looked around and caught distorted images of a dark, imposing room. In the midst of it, there were a couple of fuzzy people...I flew down and settled down on the pointed hat of one of the wizards. I looked around once again and saw the snake-like face of Voldemort. A flash of pain shot across my forehead...I was on the hat of a death eater. _

_"My lord, why have you summoned us here today?" asked a throaty voice behind me. _

_Voldemort turned around. "Normally, I would punish such impudence…"The death eaters shrunk back. "Normally, I would, but not tonight…Tonight, something great will happen; something that will strike a terrible blow to those weak-minded wizards that dare oppose me…" The unspoken question sat pregnant in the tense air of the room. I could feel his happiness. "Tonight, Albus Dumbledore will die." _

_My mind raced. _

_"How?" asked another death eater whose voice I recognized as Lucius Malfoy._

_"At this very moment, Bellatrix Lestrange is in Hogwarts and heading towards the office of the headmaster. In the past, the heavy sensory charms around Dumbledore's office would have prevented such an attempt, but Wormtail has discovered a cloaking device, I suppose you could call it. It shields all signs of life – therefore the wards cannot detect whoever is under it. Once Lestrange gets in, it is a simple matter of an Avada Kedavra and the so-called greatest wizard of Modern Times lies dead in his sleep."_

_A large hand moved to swat me. _

_Just before it hit me, I woke up, panting, with my scar burning. Voldemort's happiness still seeped into me and I felt cheered. It was a vision. Dumbledore was about to die …Dumbledore was about to die. It hit me:  Dumbledore was about to die. _

_I pulled my wand from out from under my pillow, ripped away the curtains of my four-poster, and ran away from Gryffindor Tower. Dumbledore was about to die…My footfalls echoed loudly on the empty corridors. I leaped over stairs, dodged statues, ignored passing paintings, and ran flat out. Dumbledore was about to die…I couldn't be too late…_

_I reached the ugly gargoyle that guarded his office. "Licorice wands." I sprinted up the flight of stairs to Dumbledore's office. I couldn't be too late…Oh shit, oh shit…Where the bloody hell did Dumbledore sleep?! I couldn't be too late…A soft trill punctuated my panicking thoughts. I looked up and saw Fawkes looking at a portrait of one of the previous headmasters. Without hesitation, I ran towards it and pushed it open, ignoring the startled cries of the man featured on it. _

_I couldn't be too late…_

I faded briefly in reality, but the dementors forced me back. They loved this…

_It was all happening too fast…I wouldn't be able to make it. I saw Dumbledore asleep, his face covered with a baby blue sleeping cap, on a four poster bed similar to the ones in the Gryffindor Dorms. Above him was Bellatrix Lestrange wielding a wand, her mouth open. _

_"Avada – "_

_"NO!" I leaped forward to stop the castor. _

_"Kedavra!"___

_I managed to push her aside. _

_But the spell had already been completed. Albus Dumbledore lay dead on his back. He was dead. I was too late. _

_I turned and tackled and pinned Bellatrix Lestrange to the floor. Anger rose uncontrollably. My fingers were itching to wrap themselves around her neck. "You…You killed him…both of them. Sirius died because of you! Dumbledore died because of you. It's because of you that Neville's parents don't recognize him…It's all because of YOU!" I picked up my fallen wand and pointed it straight at her heart. My voice was deadly silent now, "Just give me a reason and I will KILL you." She did nothing. My hand held tight around my wand. "Avada – "_

_"It's your fault," said Lestrange in a deep whisper. I looked at her, surprised. She seemed encouraged at that and continued, "It's not all because of me; it's all because of you." _

_I lowered my wand slowly. _

_"Your doggy godfather and your muggle-lover of a headmaster died because you were there or because you weren't there." _

_I knew it was true. _

_"If-if you hadn't been so rash in your fifth year, Black would have lived and you wouldn't have been harmed in any way. If you hadn't been so eager to play hero, my blood traitor of a cousin would have remained safe. And-and now, if you had come earlier, Dumbledore wouldn't have died. You, you always had the power to stop me, but you never did enough." _

_"But you were the one who actually killed them – I-I-I h-had no control over the situations," I said shakily. It sounded unconvincing, even to me. _

_"I can tell you know that it's your fault."_

_She was right – I knew it was my fault. I always had a chance to prevent their deaths but I never did take the chance._

_It WAS my fault. I looked down at the ground…_

_Wham. Her knee dug itself deep inside my stomach. I doubled over reflexively and Lestrange snatched my wand from where it was easily accessible within my hand. "Shit." I grabbed Lestrange's wand from where it lay on the floor but before I could utter the incantation of a spell -_

_"Stupefy."_

_I fell into oblivion. _

A/N: And so the first chapter ends, again, for the third time. I am doing a rewrite of this story and I hope I will get it done soon. I plan on making the plot move faster so well, _I _don't get bored of the angst. Besides, my writing style has changed and I'd like the style to stay consistent throughout the whole story. So, chapters five, six, seven, and eight will be eliminated and the plot events of chapter nine will take place in chapter four. Thanks for your patience (hopefully, there's patience anyways). 

I hope you've enjoyed this rewrite. I personally think it's a bit choppy but it's better than the other version I had. 

~Lisa


	2. Ambrosia

This chapter is dedicated to Amrit Johal. 

There's a place so dark you can't see the end

(Skies cock back) and shock that you can't defend

Forcefully. The power of suggestion

Then with the eyes tightly shut/looking through the rust and the rot

And dust/A spot of light floods the floor

And pours over the rusted world of pretend 

The eyes ease open and it's dark again

In the memory you'll find me

Eyes burning up

The darkness holding me tightly 

Until the sun rises up

~Forgotten by Linkin Park

Chapter Two: Ambrosia

I stared at the wall blankly as I often did nowadays. I knew it by memory now: every scratch, every irregularity, and every cobweb that covered its surface. If I tried hard enough to concentrate on something else, the voices seemed slightly fainter, but still, they were always audible. They always did that: they dimmed down for what seemed like a moment of hope and respite before mounting back into its apex of screeching. 

I closed my eyes, wishing it would all just go away, wishing for ignorance, wishing for death, wishing for bliss. The voices were louder now. I opened my eyes slightly. The Dementors were here. 

"Enervate," murmured a cold voice beside me. My eyes fluttered open to see a dark stone corridor. "It's time for your trial," said the wizard who had revived me. I glanced at him; his face was an oblong sort of shape and his eyes were murky brown, though somewhat overshadowed by his bushy eyebrows (which were linked in the middle). 

_"Trial?"___

_The wizard looked at me impatiently. "Yes, your trial, Potter. You couldn't have possibly thought that you'd have been able to get away with the murder of Albus Dumbledore, now did you?" _

_Murder?__ What was he talking about? Then, the memories all came tumbling back. Dumbledore was dead. And he was dead because of me; if I only had been a bit faster…If only I didn't let my doubts hold me back, I would have been there and been able to save him…But…but, this person thought that I had _killed _Dumbledore. He thought that I had actually _murdered_ Dumbledore…_

We walked together in silence. A sudden cold enveloped me. Dementors. Two dementors glided along and stopped. The wizard who had been accompanying me immediately backed away. 

Despair. Voices wailed mournfully in my head. Screams; someone was screaming. 

The dementors' scabbed grey hands reached out and enclosed my arms in their cold grasps. Despair. It was everywhere. It was tangible. I could feel it all around me. Flashes of past moments whirled through my head.

Laughter. Cold, high, laughter. Laughter that was as cold as death. I shivered as it rang in my mind. An image began to form; a white face, stretched tightly over a visible skull; thin lipless mouths; those spidery fingers; eyes, eyes the colour of crimson blood, with slits for pupils. 

Avada Kedavra.

I was jolted unpleasantly to the future as I was seated into a chair that stood in the middle of a large square-ish room. Chains snapped tightly around my wrist and closed. The dementors glided out of the room. My mind cleared instantly and I looked around. I recognized the surroundings instantly as Courtroom Ten – the place where my hearing in my fifth year had taken place. As before, drab stone benches surrounded the room at various levels; on them, the plum-garbed Wizengamot sat, the robes giving an impression of forced cheerfulness in contrast to the monochromatic colours of the rest of the courtroom.  

"The accused being present, let us begin," said Fudge. "Are you ready?"

Percy, who was seated a few benches down, nodded. "The trial on the twenty-seventh of July," said Fudge, (Percy scribbled it all down) "for the use of the killing curse on a fellow human and the murder of Albus Dumbledore by Harry James Potter."

"Interrogators: Cornelius Oswald Fudge, Minister of Magic; Amelia Susan Bones, Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, Jonathan Roderick Morris, Head Auror. Court Scribe: Percy Ignatius Weasley. Witnesses for the Defense: Hermione Daniela Granger and Ronald Argyle Weasley."

They were here! I glanced over and saw Ron and Hermione standing there wearing plain black robes which I recognized as their Hogwarts uniforms.  My heart gave a joyous leap. Ron and Hermione didn't believe all the rumours. They still believed me! They were willing to stand up for me! 

Ron and Hermione sat down in the two chairs that had been placed beside my chair. Hermione shot a reassuring smile towards me which I gladly returned. 

So now, the charges," announced Fudge's blustery voice. "The charges against the accused are as follows: Harry Potter knowingly, deliberately, and in full awareness of the illegality of his actions cast a killing curse (being one of the three Unforgivable Curses whose casting on a fellow human being results in lifetime imprisonment in Azkaban Prison) on Albus Dumbledore with the intention of killing him on the first of July at forty-three minutes past two in the morning." 

I could feel my nerves beginning to stir within my stomach. I had just realized the seriousness of the situation. If the Wizengamot decided I was guilty then…then…then I would be sent to Azkaban for life. I would be sent to a place where I would be constantly surrounded by Dementors. My stomach did a somersault. 

"You are Harry James Potter?"

"Yes."

"You are fully aware of the consequences of using an Unforgivable Curse?"

"Yes."

Were you in the bedroom of Albus Dumbledore on the first of July at forty-three minutes past two in the morning?"

"Yes, but I was only there because – "

"And you cast the killing curse on your headmaster?"

"NO! I didn't, I - "

"You are aware of the value of Albus Dumbledore to the Wizarding World?"

"Yes. But I didn't kill – "

"If you didn't kill him, what were you doing there?" asked Madam Bones. 

"I – I see things..."

"So, you're saying you're a seer?"

"NO! I have – "

"You have what?"

"I..." I trailed off. I couldn't tell the Ministry about my dreams. 

"What?" I searched for the present Order members. They turned their faces away as I looked at them. Finally, my eyes landed on the Dementors and the cold pit that had appeared in my stomach intensified. "I...I have a connection with Voldemort."

Everyone winced. 

"You have a connection to You-Know-Who as a death eater?"

"NO! I'M NOT A DEATH EATER– "

"Then you are an independent dark wizard?" 

"What? NO! Please, let me speak!" 

"Very well," said Madam Bones. Fudge stood up in protest but sat down again after a pointed look from Madam Bones.

 I took a deep breath."I am not a dark wizard. It's just that when Voldemort –" Everyone winced. "It's just that when You-Know-Who attacked me when I was a year old, the failed curse created a connection and once in a while, I see something that's happening through his mind and – and I saw Vol – You-Know-Who plotting to kill Dumbledore. He found out about one of the secret passages that lead into Hogwarts and he sent Bellatrix Lestrange, one of his most trusted Death Eaters, to sneak into the castle to kill Dumbledore. After I saw it, I ran to Dumbledore's office to stop her, but I was too late." 

Derisive snorts could be heard around the room. 

"Er, can I say something?" asked Ron nervously. Everyone in the courtroom turned to look at Ron. "It's true that Harry has these visions," said Ron. "They've been happening since fourth year. I – I can prove it. All the boys who were in our Dormitory – me, Neville Longbottom, Dean Thomas, and Seamus Finnigan – have witnessed these visions."

"This still does not explain how Potter was found unconscious in the place where Dumbledore was killed holding a wand that last performed the killing curse," replied Fudge curtly. 

"I can explain. Lestrange-" I said, but I was interrupted once again; this time, by Hermione. 

Hermione stepped forward and said defiantly, "We believe that Harry's innocent, but I'm sure that no matter how many times, he tells you, you won't believe him. So…" she said. "I think we should give him a chance to testify under Veritaserum," said Hermione. 

Thank God for Hermione. I could tell the truth under Veritaserum and then everyone would believe me! It was so simple! And then, I could go home and not have to worry about any of this! My stomach jumped back up from the pit it had fallen into; I wasn't going to Azkaban...

Fudge stared at Hermione. "Er…if…yes…, I suppose we could question P-Potter under Veritaserum…But Potter has to agree to it." He turned to me. "Do you?" 

"Yes!"

"Very well; Amelia – Madam Bones, will you please fetch a vial of Veritaserum from the storeroom?" Madam Bones got up and headed out of the room. "I suppose we'll have a short break then." 

The next few moments stretched into eternity. The eyes of the Wizengamot burned into my accusingly. I saw hatred; I could feel their hatred. Only Ron and Hermione believed me, and somehow, that was enough for me. 

Madam Bones had come back, holding a vial of clear liquid. 

"So, we'll proceed with the trial now. Amelia, will you administer the Veritaserum?"

A small nod.

I gazed at the Veritaserum. It really was odd; from the first glance the potion appeared completely transparent, but after examining it some more, I saw that it actually distorted the images beyond the vial that seemed to be constantly swirling around: a glint of dull grey, flashes of plum, a momentary sheen of blue. And yet…it still seemed clear…

Madam Bones uncorked the vial and leaned forward. I opened my mouth and she dribbled three drops into my mouth. Immediately, I felt my mind being probed by the potion; it felt like my mind was being stripped down to nothing and put back together messily. I tried to create a blank wall to defend my thoughts but the potion pummeled right through it. 

"What is your name?" asked Fudge. 

"Harry James Potter," answered a distant voice. I was vaguely aware of my lips moving. I had no control over my voice. 

"You were present at the scene of the murder of Albus Dumbledore?"

"Yes." 

"Did you indeed cast the killing curse with the wand found in your hand?"

"Yes."

 My mind sluggishly processed the two gasps emitting from Ron and Hermione. 

"Did you kill Albus Dumbledore with the killing curse with no outside influence?"

"Yes." 

Hermione was crying.

Madam Bones stared at me intently. "Just for the record, why did you turn?"

"I turned because…because…I…no…NO…NO! I – I didn't!!!" My mind was clearing slowly. 

"I think that's enough," said Fudge, "The Veritaserum is wearing off but I think we've heard everything necessary." 

The cobwebs that had infested my mind seemed to dissipate…NO! WHAT HAD I SAID?! I DIDN'T!!! Why did I say that?…I didn't…I didn't do it…And yet, I had condemned myself to Azkaban…

"Now I ask the jury," Fudge said, "to raise their hands if they believe that Harry Potter deserves to be sent to Azkaban Prison for life for the murder of Albus Dumbledore." 

"Please…" I begged pathetically, "I didn't do it!!! I'd never!!! Please…Listen…" Tears ran down my face freely. 

In unison, the Wizengamot raised their hands. 

"NO! I'M INNOCENT!!! I DIDN'T DO IT!!!" I shouted desperately. "PLEASE!!!" 

The Dementors came back. A look of grim satisfaction adorned Fudge's face, "Take him away!" 

"I DIDN'T DO IT!!! PLEASE!!! YOU'VE GOT TO BELIEVE ME!!!"

"I can't believe you! ...Why?! He never...I hate you...He was..." said Hermione, nearly at a loss for words. "Dumbledore!" 

Ron looked at me with a surprising blankness. "You killed him." 

"Ron...Hermione, I didn't..."

"You killed him," repeated Ron. 

"You know I didn't"

"It's all your fault, Harry. You can't change it. You bloody killed him."

I looked at them pleadingly. 

"I hate you," said Hermione. 

*

 "I am innocent," I said weakly as Epp hurtled insults at me. He ignored me as usual and continued his verbal onslaught. I had to shut out his words. They were only words, as I often reminded myself. I closed my eyes as I had done many times before and tried to empty my mind of all emotion. I wouldn't let Epp get to me again. But still, I could hear him. 

"Your parents must be turning in their graves," he said suddenly. I felt a spasm of anger pass over my face. Only words…They can't hurt me…But, Epp had seen my anger and smiled gleefully. "Your parents died for you and look how you turned out." I bit my lip to stop myself from launching myself at Epp. I regained control. 

"I'm innocent."

"I believe you," he replied lazily and without a backward glance, sauntered away. 

"I _am _innocent." But as he left…I began to doubt it. Was I really innocent? I had repeated the phrase so many times and it had become somewhat of a lifeline for me. But was it really true? I knew I believed it completely at the beginning…But really…My memories had begun to blur. With the happy ones gone, they appeared fragmented and incomplete – flawed. Reality had blended together with the thoughts I had. I was forgetting and to make up for that my brain seemed to be inserting its own reality to make up for that. I didn't know what was true and what had never actually happened. After all, I could remember confessing under Veritaserum…But…

I had no proof that I didn't kill him…

It's all your fault, echoed Ron's voice. 

Maybe…

It's all your fault. 

It was my fault…all my fault…

_I can't believe you!_

I had no recollection of killing him…but with so many memories gone…What if it was happy? What if I had enjoyed it?! I thought, horrified. 

It's all your fault. 

I killed him…

It's all your fault. 

I buried my head in my hands. 

*

Avada Kedavra. 

Sirius ducked Bellatrix's jet of red light; he was laughing at her. 

"_Come on, you can do better than that!" he yelled, his voice echoing around the cavernous room. _

_The second jet of light hit him squarely in the chest. _

_The laughter had not quite died from his face, but his eyes widened in shock. _

_It seemed to take Sirius an age to fall: his body curved in a graceful arc as he sank backwards through the ragged veil hanging from the arch. _

_A look of mingled fear and surprise was on Sirius' wasted, once handsome face as he fell through the ancient doorway and disappeared behind the veil, which fluttered for a moment as though in a high wind, then fell back into place. _

Lupin's voice, "_There's nothing you can do, Harry…nothing…he's gone." _

_*_

Time trickled slowly past. Thousands of waves swelled and receded. I was growing weaker.

The Dementors were gone for now. The voices were quieter: diminished. I wished they would just stop. I wished I could just stop. I wished I never existed. I screamed. I wished it could all end. I wished it could all go away. I was losing my mind – I knew it. Already, everything seemed so confusing. One thought blurring with the next. I was waiting. 

I gazed at the ceiling. I listened to my ragged breathing. I counted the waves. Minutes passed. Hours passed. I grew quiet. 

Then...

I felt my eyes slide out of focus. And yet…yet…I could still see clearly…

I felt a sudden bout of lightheadedness…I felt disconnected from my body… I was floating. This must be how it feels like to die…

I wasn't in my body. I could _see _myself down there staring up, and yet, I wasn't there. I was floating….floating above my body. I raised my hand and was amazed to see that my real hand on my body moved too. 

I felt like I was free. But I was alive and still at Azkaban. 

But…I felt _warm. _Warm…I hadn't experienced that sensation since…since…I couldn't remember the last time I experienced warmth…

My mind began to clear. 

Golden glimmers began to appear in the air around me. They clustered around in little whorls, moving merrily, always moving…and yet…they were still. No…they weren't still, they were just there…I gasped; they were alive….

My mind was clearer than it had been in a long time. All my insecurities fell away and I saw the truth standing there, exposed. I was innocent. I didn't kill Dumbledore….It was Lestrange…I was innocent….I was innocent! I WAS INNOCENT!! Joy welled up inside me and I felt like I was going to explode from the sheer happiness I felt…I WAS INNOCENT!!! IT HAD NEVER BEEN MY FAULT!! My memories had come back, and I could see each one clearly in my mind…

I stood up (my body got up off the ground) and with no morsel of self-control I shouted, "I AM INNOCENT!!!" I knew it was true…It was true…The scenes of my innocence played in my head in a happy refrain. It had never been my fault…I didn't betray them…I knew it was true….It was all true…I was really innocent…I was innocent…I felt clean…innocent….I was really innocent…I WAS REALLY INNOCENT!!! I collapsed on the filthy ground, tears of joy trickled down in rivulets…I sobbed….I laughed…

The golden sparks that had been previously somewhat still erupted in a spirited dance…whirling…they were revolving in happy circles…They were so alive…as I was…I was alive and INNOCENT!

Slowly, my euphoria ebbed away but I was still happy…Not happy…content…A cozy ball of satisfaction sat in the pit of my stomach, warming me from the inside…Just to know it had never been my fault nearly justified all that had happened, just to know that at least one person (myself) knew that it had never been my fault meant that there was still a chance I could be proved innocent…Now, there was hope.

Yet. Yet…My face fell…Hermione and Ron had believed what I had said under the Veritaserum…Everyone had believed what I had said under the Veritaserum. They had betrayed me with no further investigation. They had been willing to trust the fate of my life to a vial of Veritaserum which like any potion could have been altered…Anger…I felt anger….I remember how close we once were – the invincible Trio. There had always been an unspoken promise to always stick together…They had turned their back on me as had the rest of the wizarding world…They had condemned me to a lifetime in Hell. Red-hot anger rushed through me like a wave, sweeping away my previous happiness. They hadn't stood by me; hadn't investigated further!!! They had left me rotting….

And I was innocent…I didn't deserve this…I never deserved any of it.

An ear-splitting crash of a wave interrupted my thoughts and I realized I was sinking back towards my body…I had re-entered it…Cold suddenly smothered me…cold…so-cold….My mind felt muffled…as though there was something blocking me from thinking clearly…

But I knew enough from the brief moment of sanity I had experienced…I was innocent and…and Ron and Hermione didn't believe me…….

I remembered. 

And I still knew.

I was innocent…But, a nasty voice in my head added, Ron and Hermione weren't. It truly bothered me for a reason unknown. It was just that…it was _them…_Ron and Hermione who had always stood by me…It was just the fact that _they _would condemn me without concrete evidence. 

I felt joy at being innocent. But really, beneath it all, I felt anger. 

And I would remember my innocence…and…their betrayal for the rest of the time I spent at Azkaban. 

I would never forget. 

*

Time passed. I counted the scratches that I had drawn on the wall since the first day I had been put in the prison…More or less a year and a half…

I came close to returning to insanity once more. But that feeling…that freedom had returned once. The gold sparkles had come back and my mind felt clear again… 

And like I promised so long ago, I hadn't forgotten. I still had hope – hope, that I would one day get out of the hell that was Azkaban and convince the world that I was innocent…No, I thought, not the world….I would one day prove to Ron and Hermione that they had been wrong to ever doubt me. And then…then…I would turn my back on them as they had done to me.

The thought fueled me. It gave me a reason to live.

**

Disclaimer: Nothing's mine. What's new? Plus the song at the beginning of the chapter belongs to the best band in the world – Linkin Park! 

A/N: Yeah, so hi everyone! Please review…PLEASE!!! I am pathetic, pity me…REVIEW!!!!!!  Review and I will update. In your review, please tell me what you really think of this story…and perhaps some theories… 

I am aware of the jerky nature of this chapter, but it fits this.

I still haven't figured out a role for Draco Malfoy and Remus Lupin yet, so if anyone has any suggestions, go ahead! So far, the only characters that are going to be featured in this fic are: Harry Potter, Hermione Granger, Ron Weasley, the rest of the Weasleys, Hagrid, various Aurors and students, the Hogwarts teachers, and the Order of the Phoenix (very briefly). Oh, and of course, Voldemort and Bellatrix Lestrange and various death eaters. 

If you are wondering why Sirius isn't here, GO READ HARRY POTTER AND THE ORDER OF THE PHOENIX!!!!! If you've already read this far and have read a lot that seemed like absolute rubbish to you, you should have figured out that this fic contains spoilers for the Order of the Phoenix. 

I believe that's all I have to say in this particular author's note, so without further ado, here are my replies to your reviews of chapter one:

Andrea: Hi!

Kate: Thank you so much! I agree that it's slightly screwy – but hey, the character whose perspective chapter one is from is bordering insanity – what can you expect?

Façade1: I love you name first of all. And I love you for putting both my fics on your favourite stories list. I'm sorry if I didn't update ASAP but I was on a vacation (which turned out really crappy) and I've just come back. That and I'm just a lazy review hound.

Jerseypike: This chapter actually jumped around a bit. During chapter one, I…um…ahem…Harry was in Azkaban and the chapter goes from that to Dementor–induced flashbacks. And William Epp is this jerk of an auror who was demoted to a guard of Azkaban, who's supremely bitter and who loves picking on me…whoops…Harry. 

Psaltino: Thank you.

Fox690: Refer to Jerseypike's reply. And the auror thing – that doesn't happen for quite a while. 

Laurie100117: Thank you! 

Gallandro-83: I'm not sad to see Erised on hold *grins*. But that's beside the point. Anyway, as I see it, Harry's really depressed and feeling guilty, so he lets down his guard for a bit and WHAM, Lestrange attacks him. It's all psychological. 

Iris/Eclipze/Emily _Thimblehurst_: He he he. I still don't know why you think it's screwy. C'mon, Iris, just give me a REASON!!!!!! But anyways, I hope you liked this chapter more, _Thimblehurst_. Read chapter one again on thedarkarts.org (if it's up yet). The italics didn't get messed up there. Anyways, I'll see you on Monday. 

Solarphoenix: I know it's not an original idea – but I'm trying to put an original light on it. And well, the trial over with now. I hope you enjoy the remainder of this story. 

Amrit: You suck at reviews! But thanks anyways. I'll talk to you later on MSN. And are you happy now? The chapter's dedicated to you. 

Well, that's all. Ta ta! 


	3. Flight

This chapter is dedicated to my best friend who is currently painting her room, or rather, having friends paint her room, and, ahem, tape the ceiling. You know who you are. (I didn't use your name outright – hah!)

Chapter 3: Flight

An abrupt noise woke me up from my slumber. I sat up immediately and rubbed my eyes, grabbing my glasses. My scar prickled. 

The sensation forced my muscles taut and made me inch my way up the wall into a tense ready position. 

The pain in my scar felt like a dozen dull pins being drawn up and down over my forehead in the shape of the lightning bolt – irritating only, but filling me with an acute unease. I could feel the pain getting worse. It felt as though the former pinpricks were being pushed with more force, and soon, they felt much more like just-sharpened razors. It dug deeper until I felt like the pain was tearing through my forehead through to the other side of my head. It was unbearable....I was dying....I was _dead_. 

And suddenly, it all disappeared. A haze that had enveloped my mind was gone. I knew by instinct what had happened.                                                         

Lord Voldemort was at Azkaban Prison. 

A flash of red light briefly illuminated the corridor outside my cell. A dull thump sounded. 

I looked out between the bars of my cell. He lay at my feet with a glazed look over his eyes – it was Epp. I reached out between the bars and checked his pulse – it beat against my fingers. I wasn't sure how to feel.

But somehow my mind felt clearer than ever. My thoughts, feelings were all there and accessible. 

The dementors must have left to let Voldemort and his Death Eaters do whatever they intended to do with their minds unobstructed. But why now...? The question hung awkwardly – unanswered - in my mind.  

Footsteps thudded on the corridor, and I was jerked violently from my train of thought.

There was another jolt in my scar. The meaning was exceedingly clear to me. Voldemort was inside Azkaban now….Dozens of cracks resounded – rescuers, perhaps? I knew I was clutching to a blind hope before the thought was even fully formed. They were Death Eaters; it was obvious. Besides, I knew that no one would be willing to help me now. The fight would belong utterly to me. 

The voice that had echoed for so long in my head sounded once more in reality. Voldemort.

"My dear Death Eaters," said the high, cold voice. My scar burned violently in response. Silence settled on the prison as all within earshot seemed to quiet down, "It is finally time to take back what belongs to us. Years ago this place was mine. But I knew it was not enough. I knew that if I let the Ministry think that they had taken it back it would give them false confidence and, they would put in more death eaters. And of course, the recapture of Azkaban would look good for Fudge. I understand that I need to keep him in office. Despite his failings, the fool is rather useful, I suppose we can call it – he does half of our work for us, thinking he's helping his own side." 

 "But now, I've decided now is the time to take it back and free the loyal death eaters who have waited patiently for me to put my plans in motion…And yes, Harry Potter is also here." Chuckles were heard from the death eaters. "Today, I have decided, today…our dear little hero will join his departed parents. Today, the Prophecy that was made so long ago about that child and myself will be fulfilled and the nuisance will be removed forever - for Lord Voldemort always triumphs in the end." 

Kill or be killed? I didn't even have a weapon. The Prophecy _would _be fulfilled and _I_ would be the one to die. 

The throbbing pain in my scar erupted in flame. 

Voldemort's pale face was staring intently at me through the bars. His eyes flared and held mine captive like a cobra. His presence wound itself into my mind, easily knocking down the feeble wall I had just erected. _I was begging and pleading with Epp. I was lying on my back staring at the ceiling. A burst of gold light surrounded me. I was dreaming about Voldemort killing a girl. I felt the frigid presence of the Dementors. I felt my past tug at my mind._ "So you're not insane," he whispered softly. "That is well, it will give me more pleasure to have you die and know that you have failed." 

I glared defiantly at him.

Voldemort's white lips curled into a smile. "Do you find any power out of defiance? Admit it, Potter, you're powerless. You've been tumbling back and forth off the brink of insanity for nearly two years now. You have no weapon, you have no friends, and this time, no one is going to save you. There is no one to die for you; there is no longer anyone who _would _die for you." His eyes met mine again. "You can't lie to me. I can see it all in your mind. You feel betrayed by your friends. You want to hate them, but you have only those fleeting memories of them for solace. You doubt them. How could Dumbledore have been right when he's dead and everyone who believed in you no longer do?" His gaze got more intense. "Do you still believe in your old ideals? Am I as bad as I was, now that your friends have hurt you more than I ever can?"

"It never would have happened if it weren't for you."

The Dark Lord scoffed gently. "You Gryffindors always try to assign all the blame to one person....But it is they who wronged you with their distrust. Can you not see their weakness – my glory? We share a common enemy. And you too are ready to kill to defend that which you believe in – that which you love. I, Harry, I love magic. You should understand the euphoria of knowing that you have power over those who wronged you – the muggles - your aunt, your uncle, your fat oaf of a cousin. Do you not understand, Harry?"

"You're wrong," I said rigidly. "What you're doing is wrong. I know that they're not all like that."

Voldemort laughed coldly. "Have you seen any proof otherwise? Those who loved you now hate you and those left have always hated you. Where is the justice in that?"

I didn't answer.

"You sense it but you won't allow yourself to see it. You're so close to it, Harry."

"I'm not like you."

He placed the tip of his wand on my cheek. "I have only to speak two words and you will no longer be with us. The Prophecy will be fulfilled and no one will be able to stop me." He broke his gaze and his presence disappeared from my head. "Good-bye, Harry. _Avada – "_

Something inside me suddenly triggered. 

An odd flash of gold light obscured my vision which quickly disappeared. I knew instinctively that the unbreakable charm on one of the bars was gone now. Summoning strength from somewhere in the deep recesses of my body I kicked the bar down. There was enough space for me to slip out. I pushed myself out in another burst of energy. 

The incantation of the killing curse was never completed. I pummeled into Voldemort with my shoulder and I saw a faint look of surprise in his features. He faltered. And it was enough to allow me a chance of an escape. I pushed random Death Eaters out of the way as I ran. I took extra pleasure in seeing Bellatrix Lestrange's furious face. 

I ran – ran faster than I had ever done in my life with some unknown energy fuelling me. 

The furious voice of Voldemort rang down the hallway, "GET HIM!!!"

But I was already out of sight…but I knew I wasn't safe yet. I ran until I reached the main exit of the prison. Yes! I was going to make it….I was going to make it....I was going to make it….I repeated the words in a comforting mantra to myself. I _was _going to make it. 

A suffocating cold hit me…My mind immediately felt clouded and sluggish….The Dementors….They were here – imposing black shapes, gliding silently…deadly…They were coming closer…Water! They couldn't glide across water…I had to reach the water… 

I stumbled awkwardly down the small slope that separated me from salvation. I plunged myself into the ice-cold water, robes and all. I kicked and paddled desperately until the prison that had held me for the last year and several months disappeared out of sight. I was free. I was free….I was FREE!!!

I swam on. And on and on and on for what seemed to be an eternity. 

What had at first seemed a refreshing cold now clung icily to my body and saturated into my now weighted robes. My adrenaline was running out. Each second was a desperate draining of my energy in the vain attempt to stay afloat. I looked around desperately for any semblance of land but there was nothing there…Black appeared around the edges of my vision…My strength was gone.

The blackness overwhelmed me. 

**

A/N: I'm sorry that I took so long to get this chapter rewritten and out again. I admit that I've been rather lazy. But now that it is Spring Break, I'll hopefully get some writing in. I like this new version. I really like what I made Voldemort say. 

TODAY IS MARCH 15TH – THE REAL IDES OF MARCH! It was one of the reasons I felt obliged to post this today. I actually wrote this whole thing in one sitting. I know it's shorter than the original, but this seemed like a really good place to end the chapter. 

Reviews? Just click the button down there.

P.S. Sorry for the disjointed author's note. 

~Lisa


	4. The First Beginning

Disclaimer: Not mine, and never will be.

A/N: This is the chapter whose content dramatically from the first version of Subservience.

And I know it's been a while so here's a recap of what's happened so far:

Harry was put in Azkaban for the murder of Albus Dumbledore (Bellatrix Lestrange actually killed him). During the Wizengamot trial, he was given Veritaserum that didn't work and he 'confessed' to the crime. Ron and Hermione are shocked and feel that Harry has betrayed them. Harry gets sent to Azkaban where he reaches the brink of insanity and considers his guilt. One day, he sees this 'gold dust'. His eyes slide out of focus and he feels like he's floating about his body. It clears his mind and Harry realizes that he's innocent and he begins to feel betrayed by his friends. Voldemort attacks and Harry escapes Azkaban while nearly drowning.

A/N2: Maria Neuman is NOT a Mary-Sue and she doesn't pose as a romantic interest for Harry. In fact, we'll probably never be seeing her again after this chapter (or maybe the next).

Chapter Four: The First Beginning

It was a startling contrast. I opened my eyes blearily and immediately closed them. From that one brief glimpse, I had been assaulted by a barrage of light. I groaned.

There was an abrupt scream.

I sat up, and forced my eyes apart, wincing at the sudden intensity. My hand snapped to my wrist, where my wand would have been. Except, I reminded myself, it hadn't; it hadn't been there for a very long time. My eyes darted to the origin of the scream.

"Hi," I croaked out, embarrassed. It was just a harmless woman, in a clinical white jacket, looking very scared, with a clipboard thrust in front of her like a shield. "I'm s-s-" I started coughing uncontrollably. The woman rushed forward to help and then backed away slightly as the coughs got worse.

"Water," I rasped, in between too hacking coughs.

The woman rushed away out of the room, presumably to get some water.

I surveyed the room. The walls were a stark white and the bed was white. It reminded me very much of the Hogwarts Hospital Wing. I would have mistaken it for Hogwarts if it wasn't for the obviously muggle needle hooked into my arm and the other machinery lying around me.

Muggles....What if….

Hermione's voice came, shrill, accusing, and raspy in desperation, in disbelief, then, Ron's quiet statements. And then Voldemort. I heard his laugh – his laugh was colder than a grave in winter and his eyes – the colour of blood with onyx slits for pupils, the chalk face stretched over a gaunt skull, those long fingers, and those thin lips that formed the words of death. _Death. _I saw the grey veil that fluttered in the still air. And Azkaban. The Dementors….The cold….The screams…

I couldn't….I couldn't go back. I couldn't go….They couldn't know about it. I couldn't go back there….Please….

"Mister?" came the frightened voice.

It jolted me back to reality. She didn't know who I was...she couldn't….She would have done something already, came avoice of logic, so long suppressed by the deafening veil of Azkaban. But that did nothing to stop the wave of fear that descended over me or the panic that made my fingers itch for a wand.....I wanted to get away from here. I wanted to go somewhere safe….I didn't want to go back to the screams and the blood and the cold….

"Your water?" She presented me the glass very slowly.

I looked at her blankly before taking the water and tipping it gingerly down my throat. "Thank you."

She stood there dumbly for a moment before she rushed forward and pulled out a horde of metal instruments and began poking and prodding me with them. I winced as she jabbed a bit too hard.

"I'm sorry," she said. "I'm kind of new at this whole thing. I'm –" She looked down exasperatedly. "Try to make the patient comfortable and make sure they know who you are." the woman muttered very rapidly, "That's what Aunt Alma said." Her eyes darted back up. "I'm sorry. My name's Maria, er, I mean Dr. Neuman."

One part of me wanted to run away and crawl into some people-less hole while another part wanted to laugh at the doctor. It was so unreal after suffering so long – such _normality. _It was hard to believe that such a thing existed anymore.

"I-I'm your doctor," she said rather pointlessly. "Who are you?"

She didn't know who I was. I was safe. I wasn't going to be going back to Azkaban. There wasn't going to any more of it...the Dementors...I wasn't going to....

I gripped a corner of my blanket tightly.

"I mean –" Dr. Neuman looked down again, completely immersed in her own little world, "Be polite, Maria, always be polite without being too forcefully conversational." She blushed. "Well, Mister er…, Mister No-name, you were found in a bad state three days ago on the shore of a beach in Aberdeenshire. You didn't have any identification on you or any lifejacket or anything. The owner of the beach was nice of enough to bring you here, and I've been tending you since then. A-and I'm very interested in finding out about you."

I looked at her for a long time.

"So, who are you?" Dr Neuman asked nervously.

I said nothing.

"What's your name?"

"My name's Michael Simmons," I murmured finally, picking a very common first name and last name.

She brought out a pen and began writing very rapidly on her clipboard. "Can you tell me anything else about yourself?" she asked eagerly. "Anything will do. It's not that I want to know, or anything, it's just standard hospital policy."

My eyes descended to my hands. Her nervousness was unnatural....I was so far from Azkaban, the frigid sea crumbling away the walls, the screams, the bars dark with desperate stains, the creatures who had no faces, and the past....The room was so white, so clean that it didn't make sense. How could a place like this exist in the same world as my prison? How could Voldemort be living in the same world? How could _I _live?

I was scared. I could feel it coursing through my veins, the cold spreading to the tips of my fingers.  

"Mr. Simmons?" came a voice that seemed to echo from far away. 

I could feel it in my mind, in the past, and in my shaking hands.

I wanted to leave. 

"Harry Potter."

I whipped around at the sound, the hairs on the back of my neck tingling. It was Voldemort's voice. But it was my mouth that moved, twisting themselves around the familiar words. But it was not Harry Potter that I was speaking to. I was looking down at a body; I realized with a lurch, my body. It looked almost peaceful, the way that its arms were lain out beside the body and the way that the eyes were closed. But the scar was bleeding.

"Harry Potter," I said again, my lips curling delightfully, "it has been so long. But it is over." I glanced up at the ring of Death Eaters that surrounded me, and looked each of my followers carefully in the eye. "The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches..." I murmured "Born to those who have thrice defied him, born as the seventh month dies....Who has died now with the seventh month."

Finishing my circle, I lowered myself to the ground reverently, bent over the dead body. Pale fingers plucked softly at the pasty, dead skin, and I brought it up to the forehead, gazing at the still-bleeding scar. I took the sleeve of my robe and gently wiped away most of the pooling blood, ignoring as the warm blood absorbed into the fabric and trailed up my arm. I traced the shape that was cut deep into the forehead. I treasured the feel of the viscous liquid that seemed to seep into my fingers. It stood out in such contrast against my pale skin. I pulled out my wand with my left hand, and followed the route that the cut provided again.

"_Scalpere fulmen_."

A thin jet of silver light eddied out, going deep into the lightning bolt scar. It concentrated there, brilliant silver shining keenly in the night. The light spread, and the thin scar expanded. More blood came pouring out. I ignored it and focused on the spell. It was working. The scar was nearly indistinguishable now. The head was twisted beyond recognition. There was only an oversized incision vaguely in the shape of a lightning bolt left in a bloody mass.

Then there was only green.

I screamed. My forehead was still bleeding. Every inch of my body was covered in cold sweat, and my heart was pounding madly. My scar was burning...there was a fire embedded inside it or a piece of ice or a thousand stabs....

"What's wrong?!" cried an alarmed voice.

I moaned.

"Mr. Simmons! Wake up!!!"

"I'm d-dead...."

"Mr. Simmons!! Please!" I felt cold hands pushing at me as I thrashed wildly. "Please," said the same voice in a low whisper, "please be alright....Please...."

"I'm dead....I'm dead....I'm dead...."

The pain slowly disappeared.

"Please....you _will _be alright."

I opened my eyes. I was at the hospital and a panicked Neuman was hovering above me. She backed away quickly.

"I..." I trailed off, "J-just go away...."

She ignored me, and came closer.

"Go away," I whispered painfully.

"I won't go away," she said firmly.

"Go...Go away!" I gasped unsteadily. "GO AWAY!"

She looked at me with pityin her eyes.

"GO AWAY!!!" I bellowed. "I DON'T WANT YOU HERE!"

"Relax, Mr. Simmons, just relax," she said in a clinical tone. "I know I may be an idiot with new patients but it's obvious you need someone's help right now."

"How can you....Just go away!"

She repeated, "You need help."

"I....you....You can't even begin to help me," I laughed bitterly. "You wouldn't even believe me."

"I _need _to help you, Mr. Simmons."

"I could kill you."

"Mr. Simmons...." said Dr. Neuman, seemingly at a loss for words.

"I could kill you," I repeated, ignoring her. "I've killed others - my parents, Cedric, Dumbledore, _Sirius_. I could kill you. I could kill myself. It's so easy, you know....I just....If so many people believe it, it must be true," I said abrasively, mostly to myself. "It's just so much easier that way...."

"You...you need sleep....You'll be more reasonable in the morning." Dr. Neuman reached for the tangled mass of my blankets, and smoothed it out. "Just sleep. You've had a tough while, and I'm sure you'll feel better in the morning -"

I grabbed her wrist roughly before she could continue. There was fear in her eyes – a raw animal fear that I had seen so many times in Azkaban. I knew that that look had been seen in my eyes countless times. I loosened my grip. "Just go," I whispered in a barely audible voice. "I...I don't want to do all this again. I h-h-hate this...."

"It's okay," was the soft response. "We'll help you through this...."

I sighed painfully, and crawled into my blankets.

The world turned, and rippled around me. "...okay....It's okay...."

"...'s not okay," I muttered fitfully. I blinked furiously, and settled into the haze.

A maternal hand swept across my forehead...not a hand, a piece of cloth. It felt deliciously cool. I could nearly see it wiping away blood; the discomfort I had not even noticed until it was gone. I gave a mumbled thanks, and fell into a fitful sleep.

A/N: Scalpere fulmen is literally, 'to cut lightning' in Latin. Again, I'm sorry about the long wait, but with summer here, I should be able to update more often (until September at least.)

Here's a contest. Obviously, I took a long break in writing this, and I believe my writing style changed at least somewhat. If one of you readers can guess between which two paragraphs I paused in my writing, I'll answer a question of your choice about this fic (spoilers!.)

Review replies:

I-want-to-fly: Thanks, I'm glad you like it.

Dragon Voldemort: I'm just a slow updater, but yes, this story is still quite high up on my 'To-Write List'.

Air Pirate 96: Here you are.

Jeanne2: Aw shucks ****

Dead feather: I hope this isn't too much of a spoiler: his innocence is...how should I say...selective. It is an important issue though. Most of it'll be covered within the next several chapters. Wow, that was cryptic....

R Amythest: Thanks, love the emotions too. I'm an evil, evil angst writer.

Geminidragon: Well, my favourite Harry Azkaban fics are Betrayed by kateydidnt and Redemption by krtshadow. The styles are quite different from this fic, but they're definitely worth a read.

Olivia Wood: Hopefully the next chapter won't take as long.

Authoress: Aw...that just makes me grin.

Andrea: You should be thankful that you didn't read the first version of this fic shudders. I'm really flattered that you like my fic, especially coming from you, the-brilliant-author-who-is-plagued-by-theory-and-other-excuses-and-should-really-continue-writing.

Azntgr01: Thanks!

Froboy: Thanks!

Numba1: Heh...you're interested....An update will come (eventually).

HongMing: Thanks, and I'll _try _to update.

Rubberduckie713: Thanks though I personally aren't as sure as you are about my writing style. It's gone through a lot with me, and it just keeps on changing....

Nixie dark: Don't worry, everyone will go through their fair share of pain before this fic is over. And there's a sequel (in the far future) with even more additional pain.

Bulma: Thanks, and I'll try!

Kneazles: Yeah, I'm a real genius (engaging in sarcasm since 1989).

Kokopuff: Erised is dead and gone, though it may be rewritten after every other writing project I'm working on right now is finished.

HAZZAGRIFF: Pam and Irv are gone, but you can just worry about Dr. Maria Neuman now.

Mella: That just shows that I'm a filthy liar.

PhoenixPadfoot89: My chapters are short, and getting shorter. sighs

Skysong15: It has been a very long while.

Lop-Lop: When was the last time I actually saw you....

Amrit: You suck. Rupert Grint doesn't. Heh.

Wanderingwolf: Yes, Evanescence does rule....

Gold Silk: Lots more will happen.

Unzum: I hope this wasn't another cliffhanger....

Hahfe: I did it!

Facade1: I didn't wait a month. I waited three months....looks down at feet I'm sorry....

Lindee: You're making me blush.

FayeValentine00: I love it when I inspire violence toward computers....

Ferdia: Thanks!

Tim Gold: Well, romance isn't very prominent in this story. But I can tell you that Harry won't be paired up with anyone, and there will be some very mild Ron/Hermione in the future.

Rain Warrior: I've still not heard of Blue yet.

Mella: I'm an idiot.


	5. Take the Steps

_Near the edge of town_

_From miles around people reported seeing the small grays_

_And feeling very heavy _

_Hey – was that the one that got away _

_Like it was really here anyway _

_Big enough to swallow you whole_

_And good enough to beat you again and again on the outside – everything was pretty there_

_-The Outside by Tin Foil Phoenix (great, relatively unknown band that I love)_

A/N: This chapter is the beginning of the plot, and it's around the peak of angst for this part of the story (but don't worry; there'll still be plenty of angst).

Chapter Five: Take the Steps

I watched Dr. Neuman stare at me with unfocused eyes. Her hand was held precariously over a tray of food; her fingers were close to brushing the surface of a bowl of soup. She was thinking about me. Her thoughts sprung to my past as her eyes skimmed over my scar. She was dreaming, and far away from here.

I shuffled my blankets experimentally.

A loud clatter resulted, and the soup bowl crashed onto the floor. The doctor's eyes cleared immediately. She looked as though she wanted to apologize, but instead bent down, and started clearing away the mess.

I closed my eyes just as she mopped away the last dregs of the soup. "I know...I know you're n-not asleep," said Dr. Neuman hesitantly, after a long silence.

I worked on evening my breathing.

"You're not, so don't pretend you are."

Even with my eyes closed I could feel her hard stare on me.

"You-you've obviously been through something terrible, and pretending that you're not here or...or that they never happened will make things worse. You probably don't think I can help, and maybe I can't, but at least stop pretending I don't exist!" she shouted angrily.

I glanced furtively at Dr. Neuman's reflection in the window, and was shocked at what I saw. She was looking at me the way Hermione used to look at me when she was angry. She looked so reasonable and so confident in being correct, and looked so frustrated, as though she was trying to explain something very simple to a child - Iwas irrefutably wrong, Iwas defying all logic and common sense, how could I have done something so unspeakable! I remember the last time I had seen Hermione that look....It was accompanied by harsh accusations and the cold presence of Dementors....their cold...the shattering roll of their breath....

I couldn't restrain the shiver that emerged.

Dr. Neuman's face softened. "I'm sorry....I don't want to force you to say something you don't want to say....You're just so frustrating, and you do something to me...."

"What do I do?" I asked tonelessly.

"You...I don't mean this as anything bad, but you...sc-scare me." Her eyes darted away. "You scare me so much. When you look so lost and so..._gone_ and you look like you're never going to come back and you never want to come back, and it makes me feel so helpless and so...scared."

"I'm sorry," I said, not entirely to her.

"D-don't be sorry! I don't want to ruin things further. I don't want to push you away or hurt you....I became a doctor so I could help people, so that I c-could help people like you, and gift those in need with a piece of who I am and what I can give....And then you came, and-and I didn't expect to be tested so soon." She laughed quietly. "You...you're beyond anything I imagined. You're so _wholesome _in your sadness -I don't know if that makes sense to you, but you are. _You _are so important....You need people....I _need _to help you."

I refused to meet her eyes. "I'm not important...."

Dr. Neuman's eyes grew large again, and her voice swelled. "You are so much more important than anything I could dream of. W-what could cause you so much pain; weigh your face with the weight of the whole world, but s-something that-that...carries with it the culmination of years and years of life?"

"Years and years of life....It seems like it's always been like that." My hand clenched suddenly as a memory darted through my mind, and disappeared just as quickly, leaving a cold drape over me. I shuddered out a breath slowly. "You can't understand me or help; so don't try...."

"I _need _to try....This is my life...helping...I-I know you need help, and I know...." She choked on a surfacing tear, "I know...I know that I can do _something_ – just something! Is that so hard to understand...to pity?....

"Pity me! Pity me, and allow me to help! Damn it...I feel so useless!" Dr. Neuman suddenly stopped speaking. "Just....H-haven't you ever felt this way?! Like you can't do anything to change what's around you?! Like someone is slipping away, and y-you're...letting them?! Like...you're completely powerless, and-and – "

It came out as a frail wisp of breath, "I know....I understand it so well...."

"Will you let me help?"

"I...."

Dr. Neuman looked exhausted. "I want to help...."

I gasped, and the world went white.

Illusory hands surrounded my throat. I was drowning....I choked silently....I screamed...but there was no sound....There was only...only....

"_Crucio_."

A man appeared, and fell to the ground screaming. He writhed in unnatural twists around unseen knives, and bellowed for air. His hands scrabbled at invisible enemies. He was screaming and....

I lifted my wand, and the screaming stopped.

The man shifted. Very slowly, he raised himself up into a crouching position – _Remus_..._It was Remus_....I heard a strangled sob...._I could see the wolf in his face desperately trying to get out, to attack his attacker, to be the predator, and lift itself above pain and weakness. Remus....But Remus was still fighting....His face was strained, gaunt, and twisted...mind fighting itself...._

I laughed – it was a chilling sound, high and cold and devoid of mercy. "Come, Wormtail."

A broken whisper, "Yes, my Lord...." He crawled forward. His face was covered by hood and mask; his mouth was twitching in a fearful grimace. Wormtail's breathing came in thin, erratic bursts.

Lupin's head snapped up, and the wolf flew out of his eyes. He shone with animal fury – blood and sweat flew off of him – he lunged to attack, his human hands ready to break any creature before him....He lunged, ready for one last desperate stance against his enemy. He was huge and swollen with power.

_"Incarcerous." _I waved my wand lazily, and thick ropes flew out, and the werewolf fell heavily on the floor. A guttural roar ripped from out his throat, and it echoed through the small house so loud you could feel it reverberating through the air. He fought against his bonds with all he had.

My lips curled. "Do you believe that you can break my power, werewolf? _Imperio!_"

Remus trembled and struggled, and the wolf retracted into its husk. He whimpered softly. The tired professor was back again, breathing raggedly, but with resolve still burning in his eyes.

"We've been here before, haven't we – with Potter and Black? Wormtail's told me all about your little _group_ – the Marauders, a pathetic set of pranksters, the best, striving for righteousness." I smiled. "Potter was like you with the struggle...refused to comply, and chose to die with pain and dwindling power....And Black, he died with by the hand of his own cousin....It is the curse of the blood traitors. But Wormtail, Wormtail was by my side....See him!" Wormtail's silver hand glinted in the darkness. "See what the Dark Lord gives! See what is before you! There is power and glory! There is –"

"...N-no..." rasped Lupin with great effort. "...no...." He descended into a fit of coughs – choked and gasped for air.

"You are too much like them...like the Potters and Black....You must lose everything before you die – and you must die with _honour_...." I kicked him roughly. Lupin growled. "You defy me even now! Wormtail, show the werewolf the pain that such choices bring!" I narrowed my eyes, "You are the last of the Marauders, and I promise you, werewolf, there will be pain before you may die. You _will_ break."

"_Cr-cr-ucio."_

"NO!" My eyes closed. "NO! No...not you too....Please no....You can't die too...not another d-death on my hands....Remus, please...please don't die...." I gasped and my eyes snapped open.

Dr. Neuman was crying and screaming. A passel of hospital personnel flooded around me, muttering with white faces.

"Tell – tell them to leave," I whispered. "I don't want them here."

Tears still on her face, the doctor sprang to life and expelled the doctors, and slammed the door shut behind her.

I sobbed, "I don't want him to die...."

"It's okay. No one's here; no one's dying."

"R-remus Lupin isdying right now. He – he's being tortured. He's going to die if I don't stop it! I don't want anyone else to die." I looked straight into her eyes. "You want to help me?" Each word came out slow and deliberate.

"Yes." No hesitation.

"L-let me leave." Dr. Neuman's mouth opened. "Let me leave if you want to help me. There's – there's a chance that I can save him. There's no chance of him living if I don't help...A-and this time, "I swallowed painfully, "this time there's no one I can lose."

"Who is Remus Lupin?" she asked very carefully, after a long silence.

"A friend...." I said.

"How do you know what is happening to him?"

I exhaled forcefully. "I know you don't believe me!"

"I-I won't deny it."

"A life is at stake here! He might be gone already – it might be too late! And he'll be gone just like everyone else...." _Like Sirius_....I cried. It seemed as though a world ended and began again in that time – me alone in the bed, Dr. Neuman just standing by, and me, I just cried.

"Go," came the voice suddenly.

"What?" I didn't dare look up.

"Leave. I'll get you out," she said, her voice cracking, "You believe in it so much, so much that it just _has _to be true...I need to believe it's true....Do you understand?"

"I need to believe in it too, or else...." Or else I would lose myself completely, and the world would fall....

"Yes...go," said Dr. Neuman slowly as if reassuring herself. "Hurry....I-I'll get you a spare uniform, and you can sneak out." She fidgeted away, opened a hidden door, and ripped a piece of fabric of a hanger. She tossed it at me.

I sprung into action, ignoring the protesting creaks in my limbs.

Dr. Neuman. "Go out the door – keep your head down." She hastily pushed a blue cap onto my head. "Elevator's...the elevator's at the end of the hallway to the right. Two floors below is the lobby. The receptionist should be on break, so just run straight out the front door. And then...then....."

A jolt of pain rushed down my scar, and the barest vision of a writhing man flashed through my head. "Lupin...." I took a sharp breath, and ran to the door.

"Good luck," whispered Dr. Neuman at the closing door.

I closed my eyes, and waited for the magic to well up inside of me. "_Disapparare_!" I gasped as a blood-curdling scream came and faded out of my hearing along with a sharp burst through my scar.

I was still in the phone booth outside the hospital. The spell hadn't worked.

Lupin's cottage...Lupin's cottage, in the little muggle town, right at the edge of the looming forest....Talking to Lupin about Sirius the summer after fifth year....Lupin's cottage...Lupin's cottage...."_Disapparare_"

I felt the old, warm feeling of magic spread through me. And then came the feeling of falling from a high distance but never hitting the ground. There was a sharp CRACK, and I faded out of existence.

The screams returned full-force. I could recognize Lupin's voice, even distorted and mutated as it was. The last time I had heard it was in seventh year, and we were both laughing about something stupid, just getting enjoyment from what little there was to get it from....

I stumbled forward, and pushed the door open.

And there was Remus Lupin.

A/N: Another cliffie. I'm sorry – I've always sincerely believed that authors who don't update very quickly shouldn't have cliffies, but then, I'm a hypocrite. I'm sorry for not updating faster, but I'm not a very motivated writer and I'm quite a perfectionist.

A/N2: Did this chapter seem weird to you at all? I wrote most of the Remus vision scene while listening to 'So Happy Together' by the Turtles....I can't help but wonder if it's warped and twisted....I was even singing along. The rest of the scene was to the music of 'Lover I Don't Have to Love' by Bright Eyes and 'Superman's Dead' by Our Lady Peace, which are suitable enough.

**A/N3: I just wrote this weird excerpt, and I'd like it very much if someone took it, and wrote a fic around it. It's a very general response (I left it open so it can be said by any character) to Harry's guilt, and his unwillingness to risk the people he cares about. It could be fluff, angst, romance, Mrs. Weasley to Harry, whatever. Consider this my challenge – write a story with this excerpt in it. The gauntlet is thrown....I just hope someone will catch it. **

**You know what makes the world worth living, Harry? It's the fact that there _is_ life. Life is a journey – oh don't look at me like that, Harry. I'm being serious....Life is in the present, it's living, not _having_ lived or anything like that. And when you and I die, the journey will have ended....No, I'm not trying to be morbid..... What I mean is...there's no point in worrying about consequences, and about what might happen, because nothing will happen if you don't do it in the first place. And once it's done; it's done; the journey's ended, and a part of your life is dead. And if you're dead, you can't hurt....If you haven't _lived _– you know danced, and wondered, and loved, and maybe lost, then you'll never get another chance once you're at the end....I'm just rambling on and on....I think...I don't know if this makes sense to you or not, but you have to _live _to fulfill the meaning of life. Do you understand, Harry? **

A/N4: On another note, I know that Harry Disapparated (essentially doing magic) without a wand. But I've always thought that Apparition was wandless, though I would think there would be an incantation to strengthen and ease the magic.

A/N5: On another other note, the reason why Harry last saw Lupin laughing was because he didn't attend the trial.

Disclaimer: Harry Potter's not mine. Tin Foil Phoenix lyrics are not mine. The Molson slogan is not mine.

Review Replies:

Birdy: Thanks! And no, I don't have a beta reader. I've been proud and stubborn about that since the very beginning. But since I am starting an account on , and they require a beta-reader, I will get one sometime soon.

Cat323: Remus believing Harry....I never even considered that; well, that's for my own reasons. Malfoy however, yes, I can work that into the story very easily. I was having trouble with adding him in....Sorry if I sound really cryptic....

CharlieTheOtakuNymph: Ok.

Sasinak: You remind me of some of my friends. QUOTE; "Cool beans!". Yep, I have many friends who'd use that line.

Blip-dragon: I don't think our definitions of soon correlate. :)

CelticHeiressFiona: I will try.

R. Amethyst: Well actually, your contest entry was quite a bit off. I don't even remember where it was exactly, but it was further down the chapter. Good guess anyways, and my writing styles do change very much very often. Lately, I've gotten into an abstract simplicity style (though it doesn't show in this fic).

Kateri1: Thank you.

Wednesday: I use a lot of broken dialogue.

Froboy: Thanks and sorry for taking so long.

Jeanne2: I'm glad I made someone itch, even metaphorically.

FishofTime: I seek to disturb. :)

Hry pttr: You know what? I just finished reading 'One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest', and I really liked it. I think it's quite different from the style of Subservience, but (repeating myself) it was a great read.

Bulma: The friendship between the trio's in tatters, and it'll take at least a couple of more chapters to get to any meeting between them.

Muse: Is your name just a general name? I was just wondering if you're named after the band Muse (who's on of my favourite bands).

I-want-to-fly: No comment.

Michaelrccurtis: I will continue – at what rate, I don't know.

TimGold: I just don't think it's plausible to set up a romance with a Harry this damaged. Besides I think that the only Harry pairing that works is H/G, and I think they're both too far gone to make it work. And, I can't write romance. :) Well, I haven't tried, but I don't think I'd be good at that sort of thing.

ridXwan: Yes, Harry is the primary character, and Hermione is the secondary character. This isn't romantic or anything; they just happen to be the two most important characters in the story. Hermione only barely has more precedence over certain unnamed characters.

Paradox01: I AM CANADIAN.

Gallandro-83: Voldemort killed Harry. There – very evasive, confusing, and cryptic. This is a plot point, which won't have too much importance later on, but will affect other parts of the story.

No name brand name: Hm....

Crimson Myst: Thanks.

Emily: Oh, it's you. :)

Elbion: Thanks.

Little Lilly: Thanks!


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